


The Executive Treatment

by PoisonJack



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Blackmail, Blowjobs, General au, Handcuffs, Implied Non-Con, Jack doesnt know how phrases go haha, M/M, Non-Consensual Spanking, Non-Consensual Touching, Nothing explicit happens tho Jack gets to play the hero, Rhys is Handsome Jack's Personal Assistant, Vasquez doesn't survive this one lolol, technically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-05
Updated: 2019-08-05
Packaged: 2020-07-31 18:40:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20119828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PoisonJack/pseuds/PoisonJack
Summary: Rhys ends up accidentally passing information to Maliwan, and Vasquez decides to blackmail him for sexual favors. Jack of course, saves the day before any of that nonsense can happen.This was apromptrequest from tumblr:"Prompt 53 from the list; if you dont want to you dont but I'd love Vasquez saying it to Rhys just b4 Jack comes in and saves the day Afterwards sexytime Rhack is always great too ;D#53: “Do you think you can keep quiet for me?”





	The Executive Treatment

**Author's Note:**

> I had a LOT of fun with this. What was supposed to be a 500-word fill ended up ten times that and I had great great fun hehe. I am weak for tropes heheh. Marked major character death cuuuuuz Vasquez checks-out early HAHA But otherwise, elements to this story should be okay if you're familiar with what I write LOLOL

“I know how much you’ve wanted this, Rhys.”

He _didn’t _want it, though. Maybe that was the whole point. And maybe Vasquez knew_ that,_ too.

The blackmail he had over Rhys could _destroy _him. And it’s what currently had him bound by the wrists over the bigger man’s wide desk in Hyperion-made tech with his pants around his ankles. He couldn’t back out even if he wanted to; both from the manacles_ and _fear of a fate far worse than letting Vasquez do whatever he wanted to him.

“Y’know, men like us shouldn’t have to put up a front for what they want,” he continued on, not at all perturbed by Rhys’ silence or red-faced glares, and why should he be? He was fully clothed after all and _not _bent over a desk, after all. “You gotta just reach out and take it without shame. That’s what power_ really_ is, Rhys. I can appreciate the theater of it, of course; all bark and no bite,” Vasquez said as he stroked down Rhys’ lower back to caress the bare cheeks of his ass. “Never took you for the dramatic type. Though, I’ve gotta say, you’ve got bigger balls than I thought.”

Figuratively, of course, though it was courage bought from fear that had him bent over against his will. Rhys would _never_ be here and_ never _offering up his ass to his hated rival if not for the very real threat of a live_-flaying_. This was hardly about sex and everything about power. And Vasquez knew that, of course; peppering in reminders of why Rhys was here in case he thought to give Vasquez trouble. 

“...Or is it just the circumstances that made you brave? Either way, I win.”

Rhys didn’t answer, and he was pretty sure the other man didn’t expect a response, either. 

It didn’t stop him from bringing his hand down on Rhys’ ass, though, wrenching out a surprised yelp that echoed in the large office and brought further shame-red to Rhys’ face. Vasquez did it again, harder this time, that damn golden pinky cutting through the sting of the smack to almost make Rhys jump at the firmer pain as he bit his lip to stay quiet.

His legs he could’ve closed but for the foot Vasquez kicked them apart with, but he couldn’t move much more than that, prone over the desk with Vasquez’ other hand lazily pushing him down. The restraints were well-made by the company after all, and the hard steel didn’t even protest against Rhys’ cybernetic arm as he tried to curl in on himself even the smallest bit. He wondered if this would actually be worth his life, and if just the once would do it. Vasquez had implied that this was his price, after all, but there were no explicitly-stated terms between them; just the threat that the bearded man’s silence came at a high-price, and right now, that price would be paid_ or else._

“You’re being_ rude_,” Vasquez’ deep voice almost sounded pouty, the hand coming to rest gently above one of Rhys’ asscheeks not lulling the bound man in the slightest. “It’s almost like you don’t want to be here…”

Rhys snorted and turned his head what little he could manage. It was enough to catch the smirk on Vasquez’s face, and the glint in his eye that said he thought he was far better than Rhys even now. Though Rhys was full of shame at the corporate secrets he’d passed along, he still had personal pride, and he was ready with a sarcastic response. “Shouldn’t you be_ used_ to this? I’m pretty sure this is the_ only _way you ever get laid.” 

Vasquez huffed, the pout on his face turning into a thinking frown. He glared down at the other man, but that confident gleam to his eye remained. “Well, if you don’t like it, Rhys, I can let Handsome Jack know he’s got a spy in his midst…” He chuckled at the genuinely-terrified gasp that Rhys let loose, and the easy smirk on Vasquez’ face came back. “How do you think Handsome Jack would feel to know his personal assistant has been feeding Maliwan information, hmmmm? I’m pretty sure that would be professional suicide. Or at least, that’s how they make it look. Or so I’ve heard.”

Rhys’ whole body went tense at the reminder of how much Vasquez actually knew. The files he’d accidentally sent to an incorrect echo frequency were enough by themselves for him to be airlocked. That the files had been intercepted by_ Maliwan_, however, was a guaranteed painful death if Jack ever found out. 

Yeah, Jack liked him as far as bosses liked their personal assistants, but the information had ultimately resulted in a lost negotiation for Hyperion-- a direct correlation, Rhys knew, as Maliwan had contacted him to mockingly thank him for the heads’ up on what was to come, and expected continued insights if he didn’t want their CEO getting wind of it. 

Jack was_ still_ irked by it, enough to mention it even months later, whenever the rival company came up in conversation. Maliwan’s price hadn’t been too steep, actually. Rhys was good with numbers and chose his losses carefully, and so far his paltry offerings of tidbits of information here and there had kept a sort of stalemate going for a miniscule advantage. He hadn’t wanted to get drawn in deeper, but by now he’d handed over multiple pieces of information and had no idea how to get himself out of this mess. 

That it had to be_ Vasquez _of all people who picked up on the fact only added insult to injury. Small mining deals he knew he could reassign Jack’s soldiers to enforce for him shouldn’t have taken much notice. And sending a few ‘bonus’ products in trade deals with weapons not yet released to the public gave Malian a heads-up, perhaps, but truly didn’t impact Hyperion’s bottom line. It was little, potentially-harmless things like that that he’d hoped no one would notice, but somehow, Vasquez _had._

Rhys had been controlling the situation the best he could, and was managing a happy stalemate while he still tried to figure out his exit-strategy and hide what he’d been doing from Jack.

Vasquez though… As much as he didn’t want to admit it to himself, Vasquez was _not _someone he could control. Not since he’d beaten the other man out of the very position he now held as Jack’s right hand man; something Vasquez had taken as a mortal offense and personal theft. After all, Jack was the most powerful man in the universe. It was a power that extended to those who worked directly under Jack, making them normally untouchable out of a fearful respect for the CEO.

And it was a power that Rhys was terrified of being turned against him. Maybe he hadn’t been thinking straight when he agreed to this little ‘meeting’, but the bluntly-stated proposition that Vasquez wanted Rhys crying on the end of his cock--_ or _he could cry from the torture Jack would subject him to- had Rhys indignantly dropping his pants and leaning over the desk with as much furious poise as he could muster.

Vasquez demanded he submit to being bound for this exercise in humility; he knew what Hyperion cybernetics were capable of, and he wasn’t going to allow Rhys to fight him on this matter when he was balls-deep inside of him. Rhys would take exactly what Vasquez would give him until he was totally satisfied that Handsome Jack wouldn’t be needing any anonymous info packets the following morning.

“You know, Rhys, I’ve always been fond of your voice, but this office isn’t entirely sound-proof, I’m sure. Do you think you can keep quiet for me? Wouldn’t want anyone walking around at this hour to know why you’re here, would you?”

Rhys refused to dignify that with a response, his whole body tensed while he kept telling himself-- _begging _himself- to relax. For his own good.

Vasquez ironically huffed at being ignored, and his hand came down across Rhys’ ass again, _hard,_ and Rhys’ legs kicked out on reflex. He caught Vasquez across a shin as the bigger man cursed and stepped back, rubbing the area and muttering in pain.

The quick steps towards him told Rhys that Vasquez wouldn’t take that for the accident it was, and he backhanded him across the face. It made Rhys bite his own lip, his tongue immediately searching out the sting to soothe it. He tasted copper and tried to focus on that; remind himself that the alternative to this was being tortured before his body eventually gave out. This was _nothing _to being experimented on by R&D. Being a traitor was almost worse than embezzling from Handsome Jack himself; he could _endure_ this to save himself from _that._

“I was gonna go easy on you at first,” the bigger man said as he grabbed a handful of Rhys’ hair to look at him properly. They glared at one another with open hate. “Regardless of what _you _might think, I’m actually a considerate lover. But I Get the feeling you wouldn’t much appreciate that, would you?”

“_Fuck you_,” Rhys muttered pathetically, embarrassed at the strength of his own voice; the helplessness he was definitely feeling in both situation and action.

“That’s the whole _point_, but still, _rude_.” Vasquez dropped his hold on Rhys’ hair unexpectedly and Rhys dropped a bit faster than he’d have liked back to the cold of the desk. Vasquez’ hand found its way back to his lower back, and he kicked Rhys’ legs aside again so they were spread enough that he wouldn’t get inadvertently kicked. 

Though he was still fully clothed, Vasquez grabbed the smaller man by his naked hips and ground himself against his ass, and Rhys valiantly stayed absolutely silent, not making a nose to the cloth erection being ground against him. Vasquez groaned appreciatively and cocked his head to try and look at Rhys’ face during this particular humiliation. “You know, I’m less inclined to share your secrets if you act a_ little _more enthusiastic, _Rhys.”_

Rhys felt a lump form in his throat at the combination of fear and the indignity of what Vasquez wanted. As if being fucked by him wasn’t already bad enough, he wanted Rhys to show _appreciation _for being dry-humped? Rhys wasn’t sure he could pretend that, and he realized as his cybernetic arm tugged in vain on the metal holding his wrists to the desk, that it must’ve been a reinforced alloy of some kind and_ not_ steel. He was truly and utterly at Vasquez’ mercy, and furthermore, he had no guarantee that Vasquez wouldn’t just leave him here to go and report him even after he was done.

There were some muted sounds from outside the office doors as Vasquez was really working himself up against dry-humping Rhys’ ass, followed by a kick that was loud enough not to just be passing janitors. Vasquez was mid-stride to see what the hell that was when the locking mechanism was shot out, electric-sizzling and the smell of ozone in the air before the security system was totally disabled, and in strode Rhys’ savior and terror all wrapped up into one gun-toting CEO.

Rhys laid prone where he was, not moving and knowing any attempt at hiding himself was entirely in vain. Vasquez stood where he was halfway between the office doors and the desk, hard-on still protruding from the front of the pants he wore. Jack took one quick sweep of the situation he’d just walked into, lingering on Rhys’ terrified face a moment, and twirled his gun in his hand playfully.

“I have been calling and_ calling _my hot little PA’s number for over an hour now and I just _had_ to track down his comm and see what was so goddamn _important _he’d ignore me over. And I really gotta say-- what’s happening _here?- Not _super impressed right now.”

“S-sir I can explain… _Rhys_-” Vasquez started expectantly, looking down at the half-clothed man forcibly bound to his desk with slapped-red asscheeks and his chin stained with a fine line of crimson from his bitten lip.

Rhys knew an opportunity when he saw it, and didn’t speak or come to Vasquez’ defense. Instead, he locked eyes with Jack-- very aware of his own defeated body language- and the look in the CEO’s eyes made his heart speed up all the more. He looked away quickly, biting his lip and wincing as the movement made the cut there bleed anew. 

Whatever Jack saw in Rhys’ own eyes had worked, because as Vasquez’ stuttered denials turned into pleading and bare accusations, there was a second shot of Jack’s gun, and a shocked inhalation followed by a muted thud some steps away from the desk where the bearded man had tried to quickly flee.

Jack whistled lowly, moving towards Vasquez as the man was in the throes of death, and quickly searched his pockets until he found what he was looking for. He left the still body as he approached the desk once more, and Rhys was still laying there, silent, barely registering the fact that Jack was uncharacteristically silent as well, and_ he _was still strapped down.

Did Jack already know? Was this a coincidence? ...were the dirty fantasies on the echonet fanboards actually true? 

No, this wasn’t some fantasy. Jack had just killed Rhys’ longtime rival, and he himself had committed base corporate treason and was strapped down half naked at the mercy of the most powerful man in the universe. Any arousal he had at the idea was suddenly drowned in anxious fear.

Rhys felt his heart pounding in multiple areas; the side of his neck that Jack could break so easily; against the desk from within his chest that a bullet could easily pierce. 

The rush of blood in his ears, and his vision going in and out, completely distracted from the older man’s approach, and only the smell of the gun discharge in his nostrils finally drew Rhys back enough to his senses to realize that Vasquez was most certainly dead on the floor, and he could very well be next.

Rhys turned his head dumbly towards Jack, dazed and confused and frozen with fear. The frown on Jack’s face wasn’t indicative of anything good. Rhys feared for his life.

“Y’know,” Jack said as he reached into his pocket and leaned against the desk, shooting Rhys’ ass a pointed look the younger man could see, “I’ve had an _awful_ lot of fantasies that have started this way…”

Rhys found his voice, licking his split lip with a wince. “Jack I--” He was struck mute as the restraints binding him clicked with a mechanical whirr, and everything recessed back into the desk without a trace. Jack tossed the unlock mechanism back towards Vasquez’ body but otherwise stayed leaning on the desk right next to Rhys.

Rhys rose up just a little-- slowly, as if to test how free he really was- and exhaled shakily as he curled his palms into fists, fighting his renewed fear of the man at his side. Talk about out of the frying pan and into the fire. Just because he’d been freed from Vasquez did not mean he was safe. He was scared to lift himself further, but slowly, slowly stood.

“Buttercup... Not that I don’t think it’s kinky as fuck, but just what the hell do you mean by bending over for_ that _asshole?_ Ever_? I mean, I’m all about hate-sex, but _Wallethead_ himself?”

Rhys could feel his heartbeat pick right back up into a terrified tatoo against his ribs. Could it be possible Jack_ didn’t _know the things he’d done? Was there a way out of this? Jack didn’t suffer traitors easily. He’d seen people dropped down the hatch in Jack’s office for _way_ less.

“Hey…” Jack’s voice turned serious. “Rhysie… Talk to me here, baby.”

If he could_ just_ play it cool long enough to get his ass off this space station, maybe he could disappear somewhere… Somewhere_ beyond_ the reach of the companies. Though that idea was hardly realistic, unless--

“_Fuck_. Hey, you freakin’ out in there or what?”

\--he could fake his own death? He was good at programming… if he survived _this _encounter here, then maybe hacking security footage and using an O2 mask--

“_Rhys_.” Jack’s hands found their way to his shoulders, and Rhys’ eyes finally snapped to his own, widening a bit as if he just remembered where he was, who he was with, and that his pants were still around his ankles. Jack cupped the younger man’s cheek in his hand, stroking with his thumb as he studied the pallor on his face. He gave Rhys’ shoulder a reassuring squeeze with his other hand. “It’s _okay,_ pumpkin. I was just teasing. What the hell did he do to you? I thought I got here in time but maybe I killed him too quickly now,” Jack said with a disappointed look at the still-warm body.

“I-I’m alright,” Rhys stuttered, lifting a shaking hand to Jack’s wrist and holding it there. He couldn’t help it; even terrified of what might be his last few moments, he still _wanted_ Jack; craved the comfort he was offering. Rhys genuinely_ liked _Jack, and they usually got along so well, too. Jack often complained after meetings that Rhys was the only one on this space station he could stand. It was only going to cut that much deeper when Jack found out.

It’s not like it was _his _choice to betray Hyperion, but he knew the CEO well enough by now to know it didn’t matter. But he wanted what few moments of comfort were given before the final shoe dropped, and relished in the warmth of Jack’s thumb stroking his cheek. “I’m okay.”

Jack huffed a little, lips twitching into an uncertain smile. “How’d he ever get you here, kiddo?” the older man asked with real concern, his question obviously referring to being trapped against a desk. “Why didn’t you call me on your echoeye? ...that _wasn’t_ consensual right, Rhysie?”

“He was blackmailing me,” Rhys stated simply, an answer to all Jack’s questions.

“Yeah, yeah I gathered that when he was calling you a traitor moments before I blew his brains out.” Rhys wouldn’t meet his eyes, and Jack correctly guessed the source of his distress. “This about that Maliwan shit, ain’t it, princess? Unless your sordid little life is more interesting than I ever thought.”

Rhys’ jaw dropped and all the blood fled his face. “How did you--”

“First of all, I’m all-knowing,” Jack bragged with a haughty smirk. “And second-- you sent those messages from _my_ desk that day, remember? When I took a nap on the couch?”

Rhys would remember that day for the rest of his life as it had ultimately gotten him in the exact situation he was in right now. It had been a Friday, and Jack had taken apart Rhys’ monitor as it kept having compatibility issues with his echoeye and the personal patches Jack had done to help him be more efficient. 

Jack had had Rhys do his work from_ his_ desk while he customized the younger man’s workspace to better suit him, and Rhys had handled multiple communications that day. It had been in a moment of distraction at a lame ‘data-size’ joke Jack had made that Rhys had sent the detailed plans to the incorrect address, and had only noticed it the next day because that address had contacted him and told him _exactly_ what he’d done and what he’d _continue_ doing to buy their silence.

“We got lunch that day, remember? I sent you home early and I didn’t go back to the office until Monday morning. You left your mail open at my desk, buttercup. I’ve known what’s going on the whole time. You’ve been handling it like a pro, so I’ve only been keeping an eye on things from a distance.”

Rhys was close to hyperventilating, but Jack still stood there as nonchalant as he had, as Rhys tried to meet his eyes. “A-Are you going to kill me?”

“Hey, I _saved_ you, if you don’t recall,” Jack grumbled with a dismissive look at the still-warm body. “Why would I kill you? For fucking that asshole? I mean, I won’t lie, I am jealous as_ hell_, but talk about unne--”

“I never slept with Vasquez….” Rhys trailed off weakly, realizing how stupid he felt saying so as he was _still_ standing there with his whole dick and balls out for anyone to see; though he didn’t want to draw _further_ attention to _that_ fact by pulling his pants back up. It wasn’t like Jack was looking anyways, though that might’ve been because the CEO was preoccupied with the obviously-spooked expression on the younger man’s face, and giving his shoulders reassuring squeezes.

Rhys looked up a moment from his pondering as his brain suddenly processed the fact that Jack said he was _jealous _over the idea of Vasquez fucking him.... Even _with_ the idea Rhys thought he’d been selling Hyperion out.

The look Jack was giving him was somewhere between the pout the older man liked to pull when asking Rhys to cancel meetings for him, and the playful smirk he usually reserved for poking fun. He clearly wasn’t teasing right now with the way he occupied Rhys’ space. Rhys dumbly repeated his denial of involvement with Vasquez, any other words currently escaping him.

“Then what’s the problem?” Jack’s hands were gentle on him, but Rhys knew what the older man was capable of. Jack’s eyes kept jumping all about him, as if he could see what was making Rhys so cagey if he only looked hard enough. 

“I don’t understand… Not that-- Don’t take that to mean I _want _to die,” Rhys quickly got out, afraid to accept that he was possibly going to get out of this alive. “But why aren’t you, like, shooting me? You bring up that deal we lost all the time…”

“Seriously, kiddo? One, I’m brilliant, and that would be a _huge_ waste. And yeah, I like to win so I’m still annoyed at those assholes thinking _they_ won that time, but you’ve given me an opportunity I haven’t gotten anyone to pull in a long time.” 

Rhys looked at him blankly, and Jack just smirked and gave him a gentle pat. “You’ve got those idiots to _trust _you. They think they’ve got you by the balls. Don’t think I haven’t seen the way you cherry-pick what intel to give them.” Jack grinned as if all the information and access Rhys had been giving to business rivals was somehow a_ good _thing. The CEO rolled his eyes as Rhys clearly wasn’t getting it; as if _anything_ about this conversation was normal. “What I’m saying here, princess, is that they know your information’s been good, and they know you haven’t compromised them by telling _me_. Otherwise ‘Big Bad Handsome Jack’ would have blown you out an airlock already.”

Rhys was still confused how_ any _of this was good news, but Jack still didn’t seem upset with him. If anything, he seemed _pleased_. Rhys_ really _wanted to pull his pants back up right now, but he didn’t want to break the spell of whatever this benevolent mood was.

He also didn’t want to have Jack let go of him to make such a movement, drawing strength from the hands on his shoulders.

“What I’m _sayin’_ is, you've opened up the perfect opportunity to sabotage them from the inside. Once I’m ready to give the word, we’re going to feed them bad intel and _really_ take ‘em apart._ Hoooo_ that almost gives me a stiffy, I can’t wait for those dickbags to realize what we did.” Jack chuckled to himself with a grin for the younger man.

“You’re… really okay with all of that?” Rhys asked seriously, watching Jack with a hanging hope as the older man smiled at him.

“Not only okay with it, but I want you to keep it up. If you have trouble deciding what info you wanna give those losers, we’ll make something up, okay? I’ve got enough money lying around to throw those idiots a bone if they still think you’re working for them. It’s an investment I’ll collect on when the iron is hot, or however that shit goes.”

It was _strike_ when the iron is hot, Rhys knew, but didn’t want to give Jack any ideas about striking anything while he was still pantsless. “I seriously cannot believe you’re okay with this,” Rhys muttered with something of relieved shock. “The last person who sold company secrets got sent down to R&D, and they still haven’t come back.”

“Yeah, put ‘em in the hybrid breeding program or something, I don’t know. Anyways, pumpkin, even if that wasn’t the case, I still wouldn’t kill you. You are _way_ too damn cute and that would put a _huge_ damper in my chances of someday getting laid,” Jack said with a half-joking tone, though the look in his eyes smoldered a bit as he smiled in implication.

Rhys couldn’t believe things were going completely his way. Jack wanted to… to fuck him? Even after all of this? Jack found him _attractive_? Like, yeah, he wanted Jack, but who on Helios didn’t? That Jack was genuinely interested… Well. 

“I’m just… I am_ so_ relieved you found out, actually,” Rhys laughed a little, unhinged at just how perfect everything had gone. His rival was dead, his attractive boss _didn’t _want to kill him, and apparently, all his jerk-off fantasies were going to come true if Jack was to be believed.

“What, kitten? You think I_ don’t _keep regular tabs on anyone close to me?” Jack purred dangerously into his ear. “What’s that saying? ‘Keep your friends close but hop into bed with your enemies’?”

That made Rhys’ heart give a little fearful lurch, but he couldn’t help the snort it got out of him, either, as he decided he believed the older man. “I don’t think that’s the phrase, Jack,” he said softly with a little smile growing on his face as Jack grinned shamelessly. “And I’m hardly your enemy.”

“_Hard_ly, huh?” the older man teased as he somewhat crowded against him in correctly reading the signals. “Heh, get it Rhysie? ‘Cuz your pants are down, and it’s making me hard.”

It had to be one of the stupidest things to have ever gotten a laugh out of Rhys, but he could blame that on the adrenaline still running through him, and the sheer relief that he _wasn’t _about to be murdered.

“_There’s _my little princess,” Jack said with a grin, boxing him in with hands on either side of the desk. Rhys was still chuckling, cheeks red, as Jack wasn’t through. “Or maybe I shouldn’t say_ little _anymore, hm? …Grower, not a show-er, sweetheart? This guy finally getting in the game? What did it? The talk of screwing over Maliwan, or the part where Jack got to play the big hero?” he teased.

“It’s adrenaline,” Rhys discounted quickly with a smile, though he supposed Jack about had it right; who in their right mind would get a boner for their boss when moments before he thought said man would murder him? Let _alone_ get aroused with a body in the room? He wasn’t even ashamed of it to be honest. Chalk it up to the thrill of still being alive. “And my dick size is-- Why are we talking about that right now?” Rhys genuinely laughed, about ready to reach down and pull his pants over the semi he had going anyways, but loathe to break the proximity of Jack’s nearness. 

Warm puffs of breath went over Rhys as Jack lightly chuckled and moved in just a tad closer; either teasing or testing, Rhys wasn’t sure, but the hand the younger man wrapped about the outside of Jack’s shoulder gave an encouraging squeeze, and Jack’s smile widened. 

“You’ve got two choices here, buttercup,” the older man said with a smirk that did _nothing_ to quell the plumping of Rhys’ cock, “And I’ll respect whatever you choose. We can cover that up,” he said with a quick glance down between them so Rhys knew his meaning, “cover_ that_ up,” he said with another look in the direction of Vasquez’ useless shell, “and you can go back to being the best damn PA I’ve had in a long, long line of unprofessional idiots, and I won’t press it any further, _or_,” Jack said with an edge of uncertainty Rhys wouldn’t have caught if he didn’t know the older man so well, “you can let me show you just how irreplaceable you are on a _less_ than professional level, and how very much I_ don’t_ wanna kill ya. Whaddya say?”

Rhys’ heart rate picked right back up from where it had been finally calming, but this time he wasn’t afraid. The exact opposite, actually. “You mean--”

“I guess I _did _cockblock you, right?” Jack joked with an exaggerated roll of his eyes. “_Technically_, I mean,” he mocked a little, then smirked, emboldened by the squeeze Rhys’ hand gave his arm. “And here you are all... _pantless_ with no dick-being-sucked. It’s a travesty is what I’m saying, kitten; dicks being out, left un-sucked. It’s un-Hyperion. Goes against everything my brand stands for.”

Rhys couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped him, and it was a small movement to lean the top of his head on Jack’s shoulder, shaking with laughter and relief and holding tight to the older man to try to reign it in. Jack himself couldn’t have been more delighted by that, and Rhys could feel the smile against his skin as Jack turned and spoke, lips just barely kissing his jaw. 

“Whaddya say, pumpkin? How would you like a little executive treatment, hmm?” 

Jack’s lips pressed chastely against Rhys’ jaw as the younger man pressed into the gesture, and Rhys stood back up to smile, allowing Jack to take his chin in his hand and press their lips together. The action stung where he’d bit himself, and Jack licked his own lips as he pulled away, wrapping both large hands around Rhys’ hips and smirking expectantly.

“...Please?” Rhys asked, wanting the comfort, the ironic_ safety_ the older man represented, and everything else he had to offer.

Though he’d alluded to it already, Jack still surprised him by dropping to his knees in front of Rhys, hands on the younger man’s thighs as he came face to face with his cock, and wasted no time getting himself quite acquainted.

Rhys was learning a lot about himself today. Namely, that he probably wasn’t as good a person as he thought he was if he was able to get fully hard and enjoy one hell of a blowjob with a body in the room, but also that he’d been willing to go a great distance to protect his own interests-- which he was a little proud of- and that his little crush on Jack, along with his hero-worship of the man, was definitely not going to change any time soon… _even_ when potentially fearing for his life.

None of that mattered right now though, because as great and as varied the skills that Jack was rumored to have were, it didn’t prepare Rhys for the reality of the CEO on his knees completely taking him apart with his mouth alone.

That was okay though. He had a feeling that Jack was going to be there to put him back together again, too.

**Author's Note:**

> I most likely will continue this when I have more time :) For now, prompt filled, woo! HAHA But yeah no I can see myself eventually coming back to this if the call for smut and actual plot happens. That's how we got Safeguard out of me anyways LOLOL
> 
> [my tumblr](http://purge-that-urge-rhackathon.tumblr.com/) | [my fic masterlist archive](http://purge-that-urge-rhackathon.tumblr.com/post/134979026515/poisonjack-ao3-fic-archive) | [my twitter](https://twitter.com/PurgeThatUrge) | [my pillowfort](https://www.pillowfort.io/PoisonJack)
> 
> Please leave kudos and a comment if you enjoyed! ao3 FAQ: [Can I post comments anonymously, or if I don't have an Archive account? ](https://archiveofourown.org/faq/comments-and-kudos?language_id=en#anoncomment)


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